


Soraka, Breeder for the Winter's Claw.

by ThatLewdWriter



Series: Winter's Claw [2]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Blowjobs, F/F, Futa, Futanari, Futanari Quinn x Soraka, Girl Penis, Impregnation, Rough Sex, Rough conduct and speech, Sex, Soraka willingly wants to be turned into a breeding slut, Submission? I guess. Kinda., Winter Wonderland Soraka, Woad Scout Quinn, commission, cross-posted on HentaiFoundry, dirty talking & degradation, dubcon?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatLewdWriter/pseuds/ThatLewdWriter
Summary: Soraka's never felt quite at home at the foreign Avarosan court - they're stiff, uptight, and cold about sex. Soraka, disappointed at her lack of contribution, tries to find some way to be of use - so, naturally, she decides to offer up her body to the Winter's Claw as a breeding slut. Isn't that the only logical thing to do?Kinda sucks that she has no idea where the Winter's Claw is, but hey.
Relationships: Quinn/Soraka (League of Legends)
Series: Winter's Claw [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038084
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	Soraka, Breeder for the Winter's Claw.

**Author's Note:**

> Another old one, forgive any clumsiness in the writing quality (Such that there is).

* * *

Soraka walked timidly through the snow-drifts of the southern slopes, hands clenched tightly to her chest. Her fingers laced together, trying to provide her some measure of comfort, though it achieved little. She was trembling badly, and it was not due to the cold at all. Fear had hold of her heart, as well as no small measure of nervous anxiousness. 

The Winter’s Claw owned the Southern Slopes now, ever since they had stormed in half a year ago. The Avarosans had never had a strong presence there, and the few forces available had fled. They brought with them the classical horror stories, repeated in countless variations over the years, of hardy warriors and vicious orgies of debauched breeding. 

Avarosa, predictably, despised The Winter’s Claw, and their horrible practices of making off with women and taking in children as fighters. Midnight raids on Avarosan border-territories had been extremely common before the new guard patrols, but every peasant remembered those times. It was before Soraka had arrived at court, gifted by the Poro King to Queen Ashe as an adviser, and so she was spared from the worst of it.

Soraka had never settled well; she was kind, and nice, and they treated her like glass, but Soraka harboured a desire to be useful. She was not useful at court. All her tidings and warnings fell on deaf ears, or were treated like a child’s suggestions. No one wanted to touch her because of her strange anatomy, and her strange origins - what authority had the Poro King in Queen Ashe’s territory, after all? She was little better than a healer or a nursemaid, used to treat women abused by the Winter’s Claw.

That was where she heard all the stories. She was told about the harsh treatments, and the continuous fucking that the barbarian hordes could achieve. One woman, swollen with their children, had spoken about how much larger they were than the Avarosans, and how how much harder they fucked. It was meant as a story of warning and fear, and the other gentle folk had flinched and lamented over the soldier’s misfortune.

Soraka had tried to fight the tingling sensation between her awkwardly-jointed legs. It only furthered her sensation of separation from the nation she was supposed to help; the stories of sex made them scared, and it aroused Soraka. She did not fit in with them - she could see it in their eyes, their stares, their body language. Try as she might, they wouldn’t touch her or lie with her. She was no whore, to be sure, but they treated her like one behind her back; she was sure of it.

Her only confidant, Anivia, had tried to assure her that was not the case, but it fell on deaf ears. Not even Anivia herself had any use for the Poro King’s dryad, and it made her sad. She was desperate to be of some worth - sent away by her first King, treated like a bauble by the second - well, there was one more court available, right? It wasn’t wrong to want purpose, right? This - she needed to do this. The Winter’s Claw were so… so strapping, and big, and strong. Ashe had been so pretty, so kind, but had never looked twice at Soraka - and though she was pretty, and kind, Ashe lacked the steely muscle or big dick of Sejuani.

Not that Soraka thought she would have a chance with either of the two rulers, but just to be close to royalty would suffice. If only she could get through the dastardly cold, and actually find her destination. She had not planned for the journey well enough, and she was still clothed in her courtly dress: shoulders bare, skirt ending at her upper thigh; the cold was nipping at her flesh, and the only thing that kept her warm was nervous excitement. 

She was also terribly lost. Piles of snow in a frozen wood, where she could not see the horizon. Why oh why had she thought this a clever idea? She could have went back home, or she could have visited a brothel, or… Why would she think that finding lecherous barbarians was the best option?

_Because it’s what I deserve,_ her mind supplied. _But maybe fate wants me to die out here in the cold, instead._

She was not quite sure anyone would miss her, or notice that she was gone. Going to the place where Avarosans fled from was just wrong to them, so even if they _did_ notice no one would come after her. It was far too dangerous for someone who wasn’t a native.

An owl hooted, and landed on a branch above her. Soraka looked up at the white-plumed animal, and her keen eyes marked out blue markings and spots of brown. It was a large bird, larger than was normal, but that meant little by itself. She pressed on, ignoring it.

The owl had other intentions, and swooped low the moment her back was turned. It’s claws nicked her golden hair, and Soraka ducked low. The owl landed on another branch, and hooted down at the crouched woman. 

“L-leave!” Soraka shouted far too timidly. “Shoo! Go away!”

The great white owl cocked its head, and shifted wickedly sharp talons against the frozen bark. Large, shining eyes glared down at her, as if in thought. Soraka stared fearfully, and after a moment, the owl launched itself at her again.

Soraka’s screech was easily a match for the owl’s own cry, and the nimble-footed dryad bounded forwards and tried to run along the icy ground. The owl circled, and followed on her trail. Whenever Soraka tried to make for the shadow of a large tree or hide between huge stones the owl would block her, forcing her around. 

“Stop f-following me! Go away!”

It was very clearly following her, though Soraka’s panicked mind could not figure out why. Did owls herd their prey? Did owls on the Slopes even attack humans? Where was she right now, anyways? She was so confused - 

Something hit her from the side, and Soraka tumbled to the cold ground. She thought it was the owl, but she saw the large bird circling above like a vulture, and realized it was something else. Her first action was to scramble backwards on her rear-end, like a cornered animal, and then she focused on her attacker.

It was a girl, perhaps no older than nineteen or twenty winters. About the same height as Soraka, but she had clearly lived a hard life; she was skinny and thin, covered in wiry muscle. Her stomach was fit and sharply defined, her limbs strong. She was pale like one who did not get enough sun, and red hair was spiked upwards, like a candle-flame, surrounding her cute face. She was the antithesis of a courtly avarosan. 

Tough, weather-stained breeches covered her legs, and a leather halter top held her modest breasts up. Other than fingerless gloves, she wore nothing else - nothing covered her muscled arms, nor her bare midriff. Only a thick fur cape, like that of a winter bear, hung about her shoulders. 

Soraka took it all in instantly, but her focus was on the rough-painted, woad-based blue markings that inched over her marble skin. They were slightly faded, but very visible, and Soraka had heard enough stories to understand them. The simple, ragged three-pronged claw shape over her stomach, and the lines on her high cheekbones betrayed her allegiance to the Winter’s Claw. Soraka wanted to feel elated that she was closer to her goal, but the whole situation inspired fear more than appreciation.

The owl hooted again, and descended from its lofty height. The woman stretched out her arm, and the creature landed on smoothly. It made a genuine effort to put aside the deadly talons and not harm the girl, and Soraka understood that the owl had been herding her for this purpose. 

“Nice work, Valour,” the girl said, her voice smokey. She pat the bird’s head, and it made noises of appreciation, before the girl focused her attention back on Soraka. “Now, what do we have here? A little goat, far away from home?”

She stepped closer, and Soraka flinched. The girl appeared well-trained, and was armed with a devastating handbow at her waist, and a collection of long skinning knives. Combined with the trained owl, Soraka could be turned into mincemeat in seconds.

“Where are you from, huh?” The girl’s eyes roved over Soraka’s body, thought it was without any lewd intentions. Most likely to check for weapons. “Are you a scout, moving ahead of an Avarosan attack? Speak!”

“N-no!” Soraka squeaked, and clasped her hands together again. She shifted so that she sat upright, with her legs under her. “I - well, yes, i’m from Avarosa, but i’m alone! P-promise!”

The girl quirked an eyebrow, and the bird squawked. “You'd have to be an idiot to walk from Avarosa to here dressed like _that,_ with no weapons. Are you a mage? A sorceress? Is there a camp nearby? Speak, or I put a bolt through your knee!”

Soraka’s mind spun at all the questions. “I’m alone! Alone. I, uh, I’m a healing mag. I heal. People. And, uhm, I did come here… all that way…”

The girl blinked as Soraka trailed off. “Valour, go scout around and check if she’s telling the truth, huh?”

Valour hooted indignantly, and the girl scowled. “I’ll do whatever I want to do.” Another round of squawking, and the girl stomped her foot. “I can think with my dick if I feel like it, Valor. Go!”

The bird took off, and the girl focused her attention on Soraka. A wicked grin crossed her lips, and her hands moved to undo the leather belt around her waist. 

“It’s very silly for a pretty girl like you to come up here, alone. You know that, right?” 

Soraka nodded fearfully, and watched as the belt was discarded against the snowy ground. She was intimidated, scared, and oh-so-excited. Was this how it was going to happen - this place, this time, this girl? 

“I’m glad, though. Being a scout is hard - no pussy around for _miles,_ and whenever I get back after a long trip i’m stuck with used-up, sloppy seconds. Yet here you are, so pretty and fresh, just for me.” The waistband of her pants caught around mid-thigh, and her huge dick was caught comically by the springy material. She swore and fished it out, revealing the full eight inches of girl-dick. 

“Try not to scream or scratch too much, ok?” The girl stood over Soraka and looked down at her. Soraka swallowed hard and took her gaze off the huge, dreamy dick, and stared at the girl past her chiseled abdominals and the swell of her breasts. “Or it’ll hurt more. A lot more. You can cry, I guess -”

She blinked when Soraka flipped up her skirt, and tugged her panties down. She squirmed only when the cold air hit her wet pussy, but that did not stop her from struggling to pull her undergarments over her bent ankles. 

“Uhm.” 

Soraka looked back up. She was almost scared to voice her inner thoughts, wondering if she would be treated as oddly as the Avarasons had. “I - I want to be useful. To you, and your - your dick. Please, use me. I want it.”

“What a good girl,” the Claw warrior cooed, eyes bright, and began monologuing to herself. “You came all this way like the Avarosan slut you are, just like those other whores. It’s only right - we’re the superior tribe, and every woman needs to learn their place beneath us. You learned faster than most, and now you get rewarded.”

She stepped in closer, until her dick was mere inches away from Soraka’s face. Her worn fingers reached out to swipe away stray tears from Soraka’s cheeks, before settling in her hair. “First you gotta prove your worth, beautiful. Open up those cock-suckers and show your dedication.”

Quinn was looking at her hungrily, and her hands unclipped her fur cloak to let it rest on the cold ground. Soraka swallowed hard, again, and stuttered, “c-can I - if it’s not too presumptuous - May I know your name?”

The girl’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “That’s something that you should not be asking us. You don’t need to know our names when we fuck you. However, since you’re my property, you can know that your master is Quinn.”

“Yes, Quinn,” Soraka said softly, and focused her eyes on the pale shaft. She had no idea how to suck a dick, but she had to try - she had to be useful. Damn, why hadn’t she learned this before hand? She was going to be called a failure…

She steeled herself, and opened her pink lips just enough to pop the thick head into mouth like a candy. The taste was different than to what she had expected, but it was not unpleasant. She could get used to it. She had no idea what to do, so simply did what seemed right. She popped off the head, licked it timidly, and put it in her mouth again. The angle was not quite right, and the rubber-textured head hit her cheek and pushed it out like a mountain-top.

The head rubbed into her cheek, and she flicked the rest of the broad length with her tongue. It was uncomfortable to keep it like that for too long, and so she let it slip free in order to try again. This time it went in straight, sliding on top her tongue and into the back of her mouth. Unsure of how much she should take, or could take in, she tried to swallow it like a candy-cane. It was very wide, and the girth of it bulged out her cheeks.

It hit the back of her throat, and the urge to gag was strong. Though she fought it her throat still tried to reject the intruder, closing and surrounding the head in fleshy walls. She was rewarded with a soft groan from Quinn, which elated Soraka. She tried to take more, but her body would not comply, so she just held the dick part way in her throat. 

Saliva pooled from her open mouth and drooled downwards in disgustingly lewd strings. Her dress darkened as the liquid soaked into it, and her breasts bore a sticky sheen. It was sloppy and messy, and Soraka was unsure of how interpret the sign. The extra saliva allowed Quinn to sink another inch inside her new slut, and this time Soraka could not stop herself from doubling over; she choked loudly and slurped on a mix of air and spit, and spat the heaving rod out. Quinn merely chuckled, and gently pet Soraka’s golden, braided hair comfortingly. 

Soraka was eager to do more, and had an idea. She swiped the saliva from her chin and her cleavage, and with her hands sufficiently lubed up she placed them on the object of her new devotion. With clumsy strokes she worked her hands across the girth, pulling the skin taut and massaging throbbing veins. When she spotted a tight and heavy sack she used her fingers to cup it gently, tenderly, and palmed it softly. She was rewarded with low sighs, new she was doing something right. But one hand on the dick was surely not enough for such a strained warrior, and knowing she couldn’t swallow it right she tackled it with her tongue. Long flicks brushed the hard skin, working eagerly to bring pleasure. From the underside she licked base to tip in long motion, and then carefully slid back down with light slurps and probing touches. Her tiny fingers worked all the while, rubbing the sections untouched by her tongue’s ministrations. 

Quinn’s eyes were shut, mouth slightly open, and Soraka hoped that meant she was happy. She elicited a gasp from the scout when she licked the swollen balls at her cock’s base, which only intensified when she moved to the other. The dick throbbed powerfully under her fingers, and the unexpected motion caused Soraka to pull away. 

Chuckling, Quinn opened her eyes and grabbed her cock with one hand. She slapped Soraka’s face with the spittle-slicked beast, and the wet squishing noises served to further arouse the slutty dryad. Wet strings connected cheek-to-cock, like a depraved roped, and Soraka delighted in it. 

“Good try,” Quinn complimented, and Soraka’s heart rose fractionally. “You’ll have plenty more practice soon, and then you’ll take my dick right down to the base. But i’ve been pent up for weeks, and this is going all in your whore cunt.”

Without a moment of hesitation the wild woman forced herself onto the meek Soraka, pushing her shoulders down until her back was against the cold ground. Her legs were splayed out around her, panties awkwardly stuck to her ankles, but that did not stop the scout from getting between them. Soraka shivered at the cold, the anticipation, and the general situation. Quinn just manhandled her into the right spot, and she was okay with it. 

“That’s right,” Quinn breathed, almost talking to herself as her fist tried to guide along her fat truncheon of a cock. “You’re just a whore for superior futa cock.” 

Her cock-head fought to find a way into the narrow, tiny passage, but slipped along the length of the dripping folds. Growling, the scout tried harder, rubbing her dick into Soraka’s sensitive clit unintentionally. Up and down she struggled, splitting dainty lips and spreading around the sticky wetness. Soraka squeaked, pussy tingling and pricking with arousal.

With a triumphant grunt Quinn finally found her mark, and the crown of her broad cock barreled instantly inside. Soraka made a high pitched noise, feeling as if a stone had just entered her passage, wider and larger than anything else before. There it stayed, as Quinn adjusted herself into a better position: One hand to either side of Soraka’s chest, legs back, as if she was trying to perform push-ups. With nary a noise the woad scout pushed in, working her length right through the snug channel. All the wetness aided her well, for otherwise it would have been impossible. She was large, thick, long, and filled out Soraka’s eager pussy like a balloon with air. No matter how tight she was, her pussy gave way to the superior warrior, and even her barrier fell apart at a touch.

“Shit,” Quinn groaned, muscles bunching and flexing, “This is fucking tight. Were you chaste?”

“Y-yes,” Soraka murmured, hesitantly, face red. Her pussy was thoroughly soaked, wetting the saliva-coated girlcock further and dripping onto the icy ground. 

Quinn laughed wholeheartedly and genuinely. “Good girl! Keeping yourself for the Winter’s Claw is exactly how it should be. You don’t deserve - ah, fuck, that’s tight - anything lesser.”

With a pained noise she forced herself as far as she could go, almost down to the base.There was no more leeway to be had in her current position, but she seemed content enough to start moving properly. Her exit was just as slow as entry, her colossal shaft trying to escape the desperate pull of Soraka’s clinging walls. The woman could feel every vein and fold in the thick member, and it felt so much better than her imagination.

Only halfway out Quinn submitted to the the cunt’s greedy pull, and sank back inside. Her swollen crown bulged out vice-like walls, and gradually stretched out a path for her length to follow. She worked herself in and out as an even pace, never fully pulling out; the thrusts were short and shallow, but that was still enough to send Soraka gasping and panting. 

Her fingers clutched useless at the icy ground, trying to seek purchase where there was none. Big, bright blue eyes stared at the scout, ravenously watching as her arms flexed each time they pushed up and down. Her stomach, like a washboard, was tense and straight, and Soraka wondered what it would feel like to run her hands over it.

_Could I?_ She wondered, and hesitantly raised one of her small hands. Quinn took no notice at all, fully focused on working herself in and out of the snug, gripping passage. Soraka took the chance to place her hand against the girl’s tummy, and sighed shakily at the tight, chiseled textures. They flexed imperceptibly beneath her hand every time Quinn drilled inside, and Soraka was amazed at the strength and power of this girl.

_It makes sense,_ a perverted part of Soraka’s mind told her, _that the Winter’s Claw is ascendant. No Avarosan girl is built like this, they’re all like me. Dainty, small - they are - they’re meant to be under these warriors, like me. This is what we’re destined for._

Quinn huffed, breath laboured. “Thank the gods they saw fit to grant me a cunt to fuck,” she moaned, “And one so pretty. Flaxen hair, pretty eyes, childbearing hips - fucking perfect.”

Soraka should have felt objectified, but was, instead, energized. She was _wanted._ She was being useful. This was good. She moaned appreciatively as Quinn delved into her sweet twat, plundering her once-chaste cove with her immense bulk. The girl’s movements were still evenly paced, but there was a jerkiness to the motions, a tremble in her core. Soraka did not know what it was, and used her lilting moans to soothe the scout.

One of Quinn’s hands lifted up quickly, and settled itself on one of Soraka’s small breast. She squeezed tight, smirked, and made a promise, “These will swell up nicely when you are with child. I can’t wait to see my kid sucking on your tits.” 

Soraka shuddered at the idea. Quinn’s movements became faster, less even and more powerful. Heavy strokes stretched out her passage brutally, giving them no respite to relax. Her folds dripped with wetness, and the bubbling of churning liquid in her innards made her feel like a pot of boiling water. 

Outer lips stuck to the shaft’s base, only separated when Quinn pulled out. Strings of thick liquid clung from lips to base, as if connecting them in a lewd embrace. Swollen balls slapped against Soraka’s velvety ass, acting as a perfect cushion for the tender, vital orbs. 

Moaning and mewling, Soraka grasped for something to do. Her other hand rested on Quinn’s bicep, which moved powerfully. Her bent legs kicked off her undergarments carelessly, and wrapped themselves around the scout’s much tighter, well-formed ass. She used her agile legs to pull the girl deeper into her cunt, urging her ever onwards. 

The former Avarosan advisor barely felt the cold ground against her exposed skin. All her attention was on the rod plundering her once-sacred treasure, with the intent to seed her. It was a wonderfully heady feeling, and she was amazed that this was not something the Avarosan did more often.

“Just a little more,” Quinn groaned, face strained. Her hips were a blur of motion, slamming forwards and ensuring Soraka’s cunt had no time to recuperate. Soraka swore she could feel every tiny centimeter of Quinn’s cock, masterfully moving and claiming her cunt. The only strange thing was the fire in her stomach, burning fast - she had never felt such a thing before, and it worried her.

“Yes! Yes!” Quinn drove her hips down with finality, mashing their lower halves together. balls swelled and rose, filling neatly in the gap beneath her twat, resting warm, heavy, and twitching. After another moment, when her cock swelled like a slow-motion picture, she dropped down and smothered Soraka’s soft body with her own, harder one. The feeling of strong muscles rippling against her skin was enough to drive Soraka into overdrive, and the goat-legged woman eagerly and happily moved her hips to grind against the colossal rod within her. 

The scout's balls spasmed, and her dick fired rope after rope of thick seed. It draped across her fluttering pink walls, like palace standards. It pooled warmly in tiny nooks and folds, and some mixed with her generous helping of liquid wetness to form a mixture that sloshed in the crevice between cunt and cock. It was no surprise now to Soraka as to how the Avarosans always returned pregnant with one or more children - with this much fertile sperm, conception was guaranteed. The only question would be ‘how many children’?

Quinn’s cunt-conquering she-dick did not stop spewing out it’s lethal load of jizz, and the potent white gunk found the entrance to the blonde’s womb. The quivering flesh was slathered in white, until there was enough to ensure that something would get through. And, with the general potency of the Winter’s Claw, even a single drop would ensure that Quinn’s children would take. Soraka’s fields were thoroughly seeded.

During Quinn’s orgasm, the fire in Soraka’s body turned into an inferno. She had never really gotten off before, not properly, and the sudden sensation of warmth and liquidy goodness set her off. She was turned into a trembling, mewling mess, fingers scratching abdominals, squeezing tense biceps, inhuman ankles pushing into the scout’s tight ass. 

She was sure that her orgasm took many minutes to fade, and when she came to Quinn had pulled her cock free, and her cum was dripping down the swell of Soraka’s ass and onto the ground. In her hands the scout held a small pot, with a blue mixture inside. She grinned down, displaying all her teeth in a strangely predatory manner. 

“Here,” she said, and put her thumb into the pot. It came out blue, which she then used to mark the skin above Soraka’s pussy: three lines originated from the same spot, in the approximation of the Winter Claw’s symbol. “Now your marked as ours. And here, i’ll put my name right below your navel so everyone who has a go at you knows where to return you.”

Soraka nodded lazily, body exhausted and overwhelmed. Quinn looked at her, and laughed. “That’s not the end of this, slut. Get up!” 

Eager to not disappoint, Soraka stood up on shaky legs. Quinn twirled her around and pushed her towards a nearby tree, but stopped short of shoving her against it.

“C’mon, arms out. Don’t let this pretty dress get ripped up!” Soraka murmured an agreement and complied, placing her hands against the tree to brace herself. She feared she wouldn’t have the strength, but she could not disappoint Quinn but ripping her clothing further.

The scout bent her over, and Soraka was forced into a strange position - ass out, towards Quinn, arms braced against the tree, all while standing. While one part of Soraka’s mind berated her for wearing something so unsuitable that it caused her to be cold _and_ placed her in an uncomfortable position, the other half complimented her for wearing something that Quinn seemed to like. 

The heavy, cum-stained rod slapped against her pussy from the underside, and the freshly-fucked folds squished inwards. Still tender and sore, Soraka winced at the spongy head hitting her swollen nethers, but did not voice her discomfort - Quinn wanted her. That was good. The approval from the girl had Soraka’s heart soaring, and the burning desire in her nethers was a glorious feeling.

Once more, the swollen head snagged on the springy, newly-gaping lips, and Quinn cursed. She struggled to right herself, and used force to shove herself back inside her sheath. Soraka only then realized how empty she felt without Quinn’s perfect dick filling her small, empty tunnel, and moaned with relish. 

“Oh, fuck,” the scout moaned. She leaned over and nipped at Soraka’s fair-skinned, unblemished back, marking it possessively. Her dick, without hesitation, pierced Soraka to the core, shoving aside cum with lewd noises. Soraka had not realized just how empty her twat felt until Quinn as back inside her: it was like dick belonged in her body, and it seemed _right._

A flood of new arousal washed over her as she pushed backwards, in a clumsy attempt to get more of Quinn’s meaty rod. There really was no need to do so, because the scout was clearly still very horny. She started off at a brisk pace, jabbing her hips sharply and wasting no time in claiming her new whore’s cunt for a second time. She grunted and breathed heavily, her pale hips slamming against Soraka’s heart-shaped ass at a furious pace.

Soraka whimpered. The scout was moving fast, and fiercely, fucking for her own pleasure and little else. She took no care or concern for the gentle woman, her hands digging into the soft meat of her hips, and her heavy nutsack swinging into the dryad’s clit. Though Quinn was trying to get herself off, the rough, uncaring treatment had Soraka gasping breathlessly in absolute pleasure.

“This is good pussy,” Quinn complimented, and then continued on almost absently. It was as if she was talking to herself, or musing aloud. “When i’m a warchief, i’ll get first pick of all the prisoners; no more loose holes for me! A-and… and I’ll have the strongest futa’s as my oathsworn, and you’ll be our oathsworn cumdump -”

Too many emotions flitted through her mind, but any nagging doubt was wiped away by Quinn’s might thrusts. Soraka’s aching cunt sang delightfully: a rousing chorus of wet slaps, slurps, and fleshy claps. The intensity of the scout’s eager fucking forced Soraka’s knees inwards, and her arms folded, but she did not allow herself to slump. Standing there, bow-legged, arms held out unsteadily, was very uncomfortable - yet every pleasing push into her snatch was more than enough to drive the pain away. 

Soraka’s long braid hung down to the ground, and her bundled tresses obscured her view so that the woman could not properly look backwards and see the strong barbarian mating with her. There was a hand on her scalp, fingers digging into the golden tressed carefully, almost gently. The sensation was very much like having her hair combed, and Soraka shivered and whined. It only increased when Quinn brushed her long, narrow ears, flicking the overly sensitive protrusion haphazardly and making Soraka a tingling mess.

“I’ve never seen hair like this before,” Quinn rasped in clear admiration. Her huge shaft made it difficult for Soraka to form a coherent sentence, and the only thing to leave her mouth was a moan of appreciation. “I should have found a golden-haired slut a long time ago. You’ll be the prettiest whore in the camp, I swear it.”

Soraka’s cunt clamped down, and another wave of fiery delight washed over her. Whimpers and squeals left her mouth like a slutty sonnet, spurring Quinn on to plow the dripping snatch harder. Every bit of the former Avarosan’s body yielded itself to the worthy warrior who had claimed her, as if there was nothing more for her other than to be a willing breeder. 

“The scouts will love you,” Quinn panted, breaths coming out fast and heavy as her hips hammered down. Ragged moans left Soraka’s lips in a constant stream of delight. “You’ll be perfect for de-stressing after a long mission. Fuck, I imagine they’ll all be clamouring for two or three goes when I bring you back.”

Miraculously, Soraka’s constricting cunt squeezed with shocking vigour. The scout hissed first, and then laughed. Her fingers left the meaty lushness of Soraka’s hips for long enough to slap her perfectly rounded ass, before returning to their home and clamping down tight. 

“You like that, whore? Do you like hearing how we’re all going to take turns with you? Do you like knowing that your entire purpose in life is going to be pleasing warriors, returned from battle?”

Soraka moaned shamefully, and hung her head lower. She was certain her face was as red as an apple, and she was ashamed at her undignified reactions. Meaty slaps echoed out into the forest as her ass was smashed again and again by devastatingly powerful, bucking hips. 

“Don’t look so down,” Quinn soothed, still stroking the woman’s head. “You came to us, and you’re getting what every slut deserves. You’re the hottest piece of pussy i’ve ever nailed, and my girls won’t rough up something so pretty.”

She got closer, her bust mashing into Soraka’s back as her lips got close to finely pointed ears. “You’ll never be lonely. You’ll always have a baby in your belly - preferably mine, of course - and plenty of kids to raise. There will always be some bed for you to warm at night, some futa to please.”

Her dick slammed pummeled through wet folds and filled the slick embrace of her cunt perfectly. Soraka had no idea if this was fate, chance, or the slutty depravity of her mind, but she was so happy Quinn had found her. It was like they were made for each other, and her cock was so perfect for her tight pussy it was as if she was made for her dick. Soraka came again, hard, her once-virgin tunnel spasming with blissful contractions.

Quinn herself cried out, unable to handle the milking pulses surrounded her futa-cock. She shoved herself as deep as she could go into the fleshy holster, and her swollen crown pushed hard against the clasping walls. Her balls rose in the manner Soraka had just been accustomed to, and they rubbed hard against her sensitive nub.

Within seconds the mighty pipe of solid girl-meat swelled with onrushing jizz, and resisted the tightening walls. Her load was no less than before, and just as thick and sticky. Quinn emptied every last drop from her swollen balls, but there was no room left in Soraka’s hot snatch for any more of the viscous fluid. Every inch from the bulbous cock-head to her cervix was packed with hyper-potent sperm, and the rest struggled to find space.

It leaked out around Quinn’s cock, squirting out from the messy seal of Soraka’s swollen petals. semen trailed down her thighs, still warm, and slow enough to tickle her snowy-white skin. Quinn still thrusted, though each movement was short, ragged, and desperate, as if to draw out a few last moments of pleasure. Her cock spurted a few, final times when she eventually extracted herself from the cum-swollen cunt, and the thin ropes of seed decorated the woman’s bubbly, heart-shaped ass. Quinn let out a hugely contented sigh, the kind that a traveler would make during a warm bath after a long journey. Soraka was pleased, knowing that it was her body that gave the Winter Claw’s scout such orgasmic delight. 

_Two times!_ The unguloid woman thought, trying her hardest not to slump against the tree and ruin her dress. _Avarosans can’t go two times in a row!_ Her cunt burned from the friction of intense fucking, and her narrow tunnel was hot with barbarian seed, but she did her best to stop any from escaping. Soraka pushed back from the tree and fell to her knees, ignoring the cold snow on her knees. Her body was more tired than it had ever been, and all she really wanted to do was sleep - though she knew she could not. With a shaky hand she pushed her hair away from her slender face, and looked over at her new master.

Quinn’s face was flushed and happy, and she waggled her glistening cock in her hand. “C’mon, clean my dick so -”

An owl hooted impatiently, and Quinn looked up with a frown. “Wha? Yeah, i’m basically done - Valour! Language! Yeah, fine, we’ll go, now. Geez.”

She looked around, and then fished her belt off the floor. She dressed quickly and hastily, at the beck of the impatiently squawking owl. Soraka’s panties were placed into her back pocket, like a kerchief; she did not offer them to the slender woman, and Soraka did not ask. She doubted she’d need them in the future.

“Come,” Quinn ordered, once she was ready. “We’ll head back to camp and you can rest, and then we’ll move back to the Woad’s mustering grounds.”

Quinn looked thoughtful for a moment, and then grinned rakishly at Soraka. “I won’t have to tie you up, right? You’ll follow like a good whore?”

“O-of course,” Soraka answered, meeky. She had no idea if she had the strength to follow, but she would do it until she physically collapsed. 

“I won’t ruin your cunt until you’re rested,” Quinn told her, and Soraka was elated at the concern in the scout’s voice, “but I’ll definitely be teaching you how to deepthroat my dick.”

“I- I will do my best!”

“Good slut,” Quinn said, and stroked Soraka’s golden hair. She teased her long ears, and Soraka preened. “Get ready for the rest of your life, cutie. You’ll get all the dick you crave, and then some. Maybe, if you are a good girl, i’ll bring you back some Avarosan prisoners for company.”

Quinn started walking, and Soraka followed meekly. Valour hovered over her at all times, as if wary. The scout kept on talking, again, it seemed, to herself. “A nice set of Avarosans, i’ll get. Some nobles, and i’ll pen them up with you, or, better, i’ll keep all you in my bedroom like Sejuani’s harem. Fuck you all side-by-side. Yeah…”

Chills went down Soraka’s spine, but the words did not scare her or worry her for the future; rather, tingles of arousal filled her being. It was very improper, and no gentlewoman would act this way. It only cemented the idea in her mind this was the place she belonged. Already her swollen twat ached for Quinn’s meaty shaft, and she could not wait to get to camp. 

* * *


End file.
